fight
by notdonewithyou
Summary: Lucy is left to fight for her life, and Tim will do anything to make sure his Boot is safe. Chenford. Post 2x10.


Closing in. Everything felt like it was closing in. The air felt thinner with every breath. In and out. In and out. In. Out. The pressure was getting worse, as well. It was getting harder and harder to get a full breath when it felt like one brick after another was being added to his chest. He'd been called in early and pulled aside before roll call. He wasn't really sure how long ago that was. Two minutes. An hour. Four days. Tim really didn't know anymore. Lucy was missing, and he couldn't breathe. All he could see playing over and over was the surveillance of that man putting an obviously drugged Lucy in his trunk. The last time he'd felt this way, Isabel had been dumped in a dumpster and left for dead.

He could vaguely hear Grey trying to speak to him but his ears were ringing, so it couldn't have been that long since he'd been told. The weight on his chest worsened. Brick after brick after brick. _Chen is missing_, he slightly made out. _Last seen at.._ Brick after brick. _...Caleb Wright. He was here.._ Brick. Brick. Brick. All stamped with the word guilt. Grey's words faded again, sounding so far away, Tim's ears beginning to ring again. She had wanted to go home and sleep. He'd told her no. Brick. Guilt. If they didn't find her in time, he would...

"Officer Bradford!"

Tim finally snapped to attention. Papers were on the floor and a chair was turned over. When had that happened? He looked at the clock on the wall in Grey's office. 8:01 AM. Five minutes had passed. Five minutes he'd allowed himself to lose his cool and freak out. That's all the time he could give it until they found her. He would deal with the rest after.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

Grey sighed; he could see plainly on Tim's face that this was eating at him already. "We'll find her, Tim. Detective Armstrong is already running down every possible lead."

Tim nodded, a feeling of numbness beginning to wash over him. "She wanted to go home and sleep," he laughed bitterly. "She wanted to sleep, and I told her to go have a drink with him. I sent her straight to him."

Grey came around his desk and placed a comforting hand on Tim's shoulder. "This is not your fault. This is on Rosalind and Caleb. We _will_ find her, Tim. I promise you that."

"Thought we weren't allowed to promise things like that, sir," Tim replied bitterly. He wanted to be out there running down leads, get his boots on the ground and find Lucy. The walls felt like they were closing in again, exponentially faster than before. He has to get out of this room. "Where is Armstrong now? I need to get out there and help."

"You can after roll call. Everyone will be on this. Night shift was on it as soon as her car was found." Tim kicked the other chair in the office, but thankfully Grey didn't hold it against him. "You've trained her well, Tim. We'll find her."

* * *

Lucy woke to a throbbing pain in her head and her side. It was dark, which she was thankful for, because she was sure she was suffering from the worst hangover of her life. She was in the fetal position, after all. Memories of laughing at the bar came forward, which were the most clear. They began to get hazy after that. Her eyes shot open when the hazy memories of Caleb putting her into his trunk flooded her mind. Lucy didn't have to be able to see fully to know she was in an oil drum.

She tried. She tried so hard not to lose it. She pounded on the lid, but it didn't budge. Rocking back and forth, Lucy tried to throw her weight into the side to knock it over. When her rib collided with the side of the drum, she drew in a sharp breath. Her breathing became more rapid after that. She didn't want to freak out, knowing it was counterproductive and didn't want to give those monsters the satisfaction. But no matter what she told herself, she couldn't stop the tears and the scream that spilled from her throat.

_Get it together, Boot! Save your oxygen,_ she heard Tim's voice in her head. She'd found that recently his had been the voice of reason in her head. _We're coming for you._

Lucy took several deep breaths, steadying herself until she got herself down to six breaths a minute. She could do this; she had to. Help would be on the way, and she had to last until then.

* * *

Tim stood by, watching as the techs combed over the car and alleyway behind the bar that Lucy and Caleb had been in last night and into the morning. Cameras showed them leaving at just after 2:30 AM. That was just over six hours prior. He tapped his foot impatiently, staring a hole into Nick Armstrong's head while he spoke to someone about a small piece of evidence they'd found. There wasn't much he could do at the crime scene.

"How do we know this Caleb guy isn't just some random psycho?" Tim called as he walked toward Armstrong, tired of being told to stand aside while everyone else worked. It was his boot that was in danger. "How do we know he's working with Rosalind?"

Armstrong could tell that he was going to have a hard time keeping Tim in check. He'd told Grey it would be a bad idea to let him out in the field on this one. Too much emotion. "Come have a look," he said, walking toward his car. "As soon as we confirmed his identity, we searched his place. We found dozens of notes from her. Rolled back the tapes at the prison. They were passed through someone inside through library books. That woman won't see the outside for a while."

Tim looked over all the notes in individual evidence bags. He held a handful, and there was still a whole tote full of them. "Any sign of where he might go?"

"That's what we're looking for right now."

Tim huffed angrily, dropping the notes back into the tote with the others. Slamming his fists into the floor of the trunk, he leaned heavily against it. "This is a waste of time, Armstrong. There's nothing here! They've been at this for hours."

"And they'll keep looking. These aren't the only people working this, Bradford. There are people back at the station combing through all the evidence we have there. When I get back, they'll look over this. There is someone following his car's movements on the surveillance cameras, trying to find your girl." Armstrong sighed, moving forward and closing the tote filled with notes. He stacked it on top of another and held it out to Tim. "Take these back to the station. I'll be there in less than 30 minutes. We will find her, Bradford. I promise."

Tim was beginning to wonder if everyone would be able to keep their promises. He hoped for Lucy's sake, they could.

* * *

It had to have been hours since she'd woken up, and there was no way to tell how long she'd been there. Lucy could feel her mind starting to go, oxygen deprivation causing the slight delirium to set in. "Stars shining bright above you," she sang softly. She couldn't even bring herself to panic at that point, the fear mostly gone, replaced by peace. They weren't going to find her in time, if at all. "Night breezes seem to whisper, 'I love you.'" She prayed it wasn't Tim that found her. Knowing him, he'd blame himself for her situation, and she couldn't handle the thought of him finding her dead. She just prayed it came quickly and peacefully. Her breathing began to pick up at that thought. "Birds singing in the sycamore tree. Dream a little…dream of me." Her eyes were feeling tired, she'd let them close. Just for a minute. _Don't give up, Lucy._ She could try and fight it for a little while longer. For Tim.

* * *

"Going over this again and again is getting us nowhere while Lucy sits suffocating in an oil drum!" Tim yelled, knocking over a chair as he began to pace. "Put me in a room with them for 5 minutes."

They found Caleb twenty miles outside of Griffith Park, seemingly unaware of the manhunt after him. He seemed completely surprised to be surrounded by police officers, Detective Armstrong figuring he hadn't realized the shop sharing the alley with the bar had a working security camera at their backdoor. Grey had sent officers to immediately check the area of the old Griffith Park Zoo, expecting to find nothing, and they had found just that.

"An emotional response is exactly what they'll want. We have to come at this from a better angle," Grey said, moving to block the door. "I know you want to beat them to a pulp. We all do. They took one of our own, but that will get us nowhere."

"He's right," Delmonte said, looking at the board with the burial sites marked on it as well as the old zoo. "We have to assume if she's not at the zoo, she's already been moved to the third burial site." He stopped talking for a moment when Tim kicked another chair. The thought of Lucy already being dead and buried made him see red. "Rosalind knows if she doesn't tell us where it is, she's going to die. That's our best angle."

Armstrong shook his head. "She took us to those grave sites knowing we'd find more than one victim. She won't tell us until she knows Lucy is dead."

"Then tell her the deal is fucking off if she doesn't give up the location right now!" Tim yelled, reeling around, anger vibrating under his skin. "Because every second we sit here arguing is another second Lucy is closer to fucking dying! So pick a plan, and let's go." He didn't even wait for them to move before he was out the door.

"Bradford!"

"I'm going to Griffith Park!" Tim called back, willing himself to move toward the garage instead of where they held Caleb and Rosalind. He would do better out there than in the building with them.

Grey sighed as he looked between the other two men in the room. "I don't care about your photo op," he said, looking to the ADA. "Her deal is off if she doesn't give up the third location right now. Officer Chen may be dead already, but we're not stopping until we find her. It would take us weeks to cover all of Griffith Park. So do whatever you have to do to get her to talk. Both of you." Grey followed quickly behind Tim.

* * *

Tim wasn't entirely surprised when the supposed exactly location of the third burial site came over the radio. Rosalind was a meticulous serial killer. She didn't need to be in Griffith Park to find the burial sites. She'd known exactly where they were. That had been evident after the first new body had been found. She was lucky Tim hadn't gotten ahold of her, but in the back of his mind, he knew his methods would have never gotten Lucy's location out of her.

He was very close to the location when the call came over the radio, within a mile in fact. He sped through the trail in his cruiser until he could no longer drive it up the terrain. "I need airship over here. I can barely see a damn thing," he radioed quickly. His flashlight only lit up so much, and he needed to see the area. Finding disturbed dirt or a black oil drum against a black backdrop would prove more difficult than he was comfortable with.

Other officers showed up, scouring the area with him. The helicopters made flybys ever minute, lighting up the ground and their surroundings, but still, after ten minutes, there'd been no luck in finding her. Tim was beginning to believe that he'd been lied to, until his flashlight glinted off the surface of a shiny metal drum. Tim yelled for backup, sprinting toward the barrel. In his haste, he didn't think to check for traps or triggers or anything. All that separated Lucy from fresh air was an inch of metal, but Tim couldn't get the top to budge. That was when he heard it. The slight scratching from under the lid. "She's alive! I need a crowbar over here now!"

Tim didn't see who had handed it to him, but he had the lid pried off in seconds. The sound of a loud gasp filled the air, and as a helicopter flew over, lighting up the area for them, there was his rookie, coughing and gasping for air. She was slightly bloody and dirty, but she was alive. He barely took in her appearance before he was reaching in and pulling her up.

"Get me out of here," Lucy gasped as he pulled her to a standing position, panic settling in her voice. "Get me out. Get me out. Get me out!"

Tim obliged, scooping her up. As he began to set her on the ground, she hung to him like a lifeline, her legs almost giving out from under her from being in such a cramped space for so long. Tim had to hand it to her, though. She wasn't crying, just trying to breathe as the put distance between themselves and the barrel. "I've got you, Boot. I've got you." As Lucy's feet began to drag, he stopped their walking and looked down at her. "It's rough terrain down here, Chen. I'm gonna carry you to the ambulance. I don't need you injuring yourself any more than you are." When she didn't say anything, objection or otherwise, he picked her up with ease, carrying her carefully down the trail to where the ambulance would be waiting by his squad car. One thing was for sure: Lucy was safe, and he cared about nothing else.

* * *

Tim hadn't moved from outside Lucy's hospital room since she'd been moved from the triage area of the hospital. The doctors and nurses were still getting her settled and oxygenated and rehydrated. He didn't want to get in the way of them taking care of her, as long as he knew she was safe, he'd wait patiently outside. Tim could hear the doctor explaining things to her, muffled through the wood of the door. He hoped it didn't mean there was any kind of complications

"Bradford," Grey's voice came from down the hall. When Tim looked up, Grey was signaling for him to come toward him.

Reluctantly, Tim stood from his chair, glancing in through the small window in the door. Lucy was laying back, tired listening to what the doctor had to say. She would be fine until he got back. "Yes, sir," Tim said, as he approached his sergeant.

"How's she doing?"

"Physically? No broken bones. Some cuts and bruises. Nothing too major," Tim said, glancing back down the hall to see if the doctors had left yet. "Mentally? I don't know yet. She hasn't really talked since I pulled her out."

Grey nodded. "She's tough, but the department will provide therapy, which I urge you to get her to go as long as she needs. She'll have mandated therapy sessions, but once those are done, she may need more." He looked over the officer in front of him. "This isn't your fault, Tim. You may have suggested that she go out, but she's a grown woman who can make her own choices. Not to say it's her fault, either."

"But I'm her TO, and as much as I didn't want it to happen, my friend. She takes my suggestions to heart. I knew there was something about him the moment he showed up at the station, but I didn't go with my instincts," Tim sighed, seeing the doctors and nurses leave her room out of the corner of his eye. He immediately wanted to head down to see her.

Grey put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "What's done is done, and in the end, we found her alive. It was the best outcome given the circumstances. You staying here tonight?"

Tim nodded, silently thanking his commanding officer for the underlying permission in his words. "I don't think she should be alone tonight."

"Probably not. Give her the station's best. I'm sure Nolan and West will be by in the morning. I was able to hold them off for the night." He shook Tim's hand then. "Make sure to get some sleep. You look like hell."

Tim chuckled under his breath as he turned back in the direction of her room. When he got to the door, he could see her examining her side through the small window. She had oxygen running to her nose through a cannula and butterfly stitches adorned her hairline. He knocked as he opened the door. "Hey, Boot. How ya feeling?"

"Tired," Lucy replied, slowly lowering the side of her gown. He'd caught a glimpse of a bandage, assuming she'd been hurt in the struggle of trying to get out. In the ambulance ride to the hospital, they'd found her palms were bruised and nails scraped slightly from her first attempts at freedom. "Sore. But mostly relieved. I was starting to think you all wouldn't find me in time."

He wanted to tell her that he would have personally searched Griffith Park himself for days on end, but even he wondered how appropriate that would be. Tim was just coming to terms that he considered her a friend. She was the closest he'd gotten to a rookie in his career, and it wasn't hard to pinpoint why she was easy to be around. He couldn't let his thoughts linger there for too long. Dangerous territory.

"But we did… Lucy," he sighed, moving to sit in the chair next to her bed. "I'm sorry I pushed you to go out that night. If we hadn't gotten to you…"

Lucy stopped him, holding up her hand, "But like you said. You did. I'm a little worse for wear. Nothing too permanent…"

Tim noticed her trail off, and when she hissed slightly when she shifted in the bed, he stood up, checking on her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just…my side."

The thought hit him like a freight train. She hadn't hurt her ribs in a struggle. They weren't broken or bruised. Her side had a bandage on it because that bastard had tattooed her with the date she was supposed to die on. He saw red again and wanted to go back to the station to beat Caleb to a pulp with his bare hands, but he held it together for her. "Lucy, God, I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry. I'm sure the department with pay to have that removed. You shouldn't have to live with that."

"I'm sure they will, then it'll be just like any other scar." Tim could see that the day was starting to catch up with her, unshed tears sitting in the corners of her eyes. He could understand what she was feeling. The thought that you were but hours from death, knowing there's nothing you can do. It does something to you. "Tim… I really thought I was going to die tonight."

"I know, Boot. I know," he said, placing his hand gently on hers. "But you're okay now."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the tears started to flow down her face and before he knew it, she was openly sobbing. He was sitting on the bed in an instant, hold her to him, letting her use him as an anchor. He understood the feeling, and he wouldn't judge her for it. "Let it out. I gotcha. You're safe." Tim felt her nod against his chest, running his hand up and down her arm as she continued to cry. Her sobs had attracted the nursing staff, but he shooed them away. This wasn't something they could fix.

Tim wasn't sure how long they sat there; he couldn't see his watch from where Lucy was perched against him. Her crying slowly but surely went from sobbing to crying to sniffles before it ultimately stopped. He looked down at her to see that she was finally asleep, and he hoped it was a peaceful one. After his encounter with the virus and watching Pete die in front of him, his nights were plagued with nightmares for a couple of weeks. But Tim would be there for her, just as she had been there for him. Because as much as he continued to hate to admit it, their relationship had moved beyond the TO/Rookie relationship. Friends is how he would label it—the only way he really could. He wouldn't allow it past that right now. She was his rookie after all, and he had Rachel to think about, one of her best friends.

Letting those thoughts fade away, he pulled away from Lucy, tucking her into the bed carefully, not wanting to disturb her. He moved to the door to turn off the light before finally collapsing on the couch in the room. With the long day weighing his eyelids down, it wasn't long before the sound of Lucy's breathing lulled him into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
